


Warrior

by Clara_Parlato



Series: Laugst 2018 [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance is a warrior and you will not convince me the contrary, Langst, Originally Posted on Tumblr, laugst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Parlato/pseuds/Clara_Parlato
Summary: "Get up and stand straight, Red Paladin of Voltron, and let them see the eyes of a true warrior, someone who carries war in their mind and peace in their heart."





	Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Empty

“It is good to see you have a warrior with you. Although is a bit sad to watch most of you treat him unfairly.”

The team turned to look at Kolivan, seeing him staring at Lance with a fond look in his eyes. Pidge furred her brows, was he talking about Lance? It couldn’t be, Lance was too much of a goofball. Allura glanced at Shiro, wondering when they had ever treated him unfairly. Hunk looked at Shiro and Keith—who were watching the galra leader—back and forth, not finding anything worrying except for the tiredness shared by the whole team. Coran seemed to be the only one to understand the leader of the Blade.

“Yes, he’s quite the rarity, isn’t he?” The old man agreed with a dad smile, locking his eyes on Lance.

The boy was playing around with the mice, trying to teach the smallest some tricks while the biggest took a nap on top of his head. The angry looking one was religiously trying to nip at Lance’s fingers in a playful game of catch while the pink one was clinging to him. Kolivan did not hide the soft almost smile the scene brought him, nor did Coran hide the proud sigh of a satisfied father.

“Um… Can you explain what you mean?” Hunk asked timidly, not really understanding.

“Yeah, if anyone here is a warrior, it’s either Shiro or Keith!”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one, Green Paladin, and yet you disappoint.” Pidge winced, not liking one bit being indirectly called dumb. “Keith sees only his objectives and what he must do to reach them. A fighter is what he is, someone who seeks victory.”

Keith didn’t knew how to react. Kolivan didn’t make it sound like a bad thing, but it certainly had an undertone of resigned disapproval. He wasn’t wrong, though, and Keith was aware it was one of the reasons it was so hard for him to be the leader his team needed.

“Shiro is a soldier,” Coran informed, “Experienced in battle and made to win them. But a soldier only goes as far as their orders let them.”

Shiro sighed resignedly. Of course he knew. He had been trained as a soldier from a very young age. He rarely broke the rules and when he did, it was always with a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He was trained to respond to authority and act accordingly with the orders given to him.

“You, Yellow Paladin, you’re a pillar, you’re the one who keeps people from crumbling completely. But pillars are made solely for that function; they’re rarely able to step in the front of a battle.”

Hunk agreed wholeheartedly. He was always ready to give people support, but he himself wouldn’t step up and confront whatever was needed to be confronted unless extremely necessary. He preferred to stand back and make sure the ones fighting are still standing.

“Pidge, you’re a researcher. You want to know why and how, ponder about what and when, and that prevents your mind from fully concentrating on anything else. A researcher seeks information.”

Pidge couldn’t deny Coran’s words. She had long ago lost count of how many times she needed to put some effort on focusing on the mission because her curious mind wanted to understand something. Sometimes even Green chastised her, and the Lion looked for inquisitiveness in its pilots!

“Princess, as a royal, you are a leader. You seek for success, with the less bad consequences possible, so you can live to succeed another day. Extremely focused in your objective, to the point of sometimes being borderline irrational.”

Allura held back the urge to sneer. She supposed he was right, she did act a bit too much upon her objectives sometimes, forgetting about the rest of the equation. She had a war to win; she had to succeed.

“Okay, big cat, what about Lance? What makes that idiot a warrior?”

“Pidge!”

“Oh, c’mon, Shiro! You think so too! Lance is—!”

“A warrior that is always attentively listening to his teammates.”

That shut the girl up. She, together with the team, snapped her head towards the Red Paladin. He was still playing with the mice, but he was silent and his shoulders were stiff. Like he was waiting for a beating. The angry-looking one—his name was Plachu, Lance had told them in the past—was glaring at her. The biggest—Platt, Lance had informed—was staring at them with disappointment. The smallest—Chulatt, Lance had provided—was worriedly clutching his thumb in a half hug. The pink one—Chuchule, Lance had introduced—looked ready to cry.

Lance was listening, back turned to them. He tried not to show—and he was doing a marvelous job before Kolivan pointed it out. He was listening and reading himself for what was to come. As if he knew where it would go and how it would end.

Pidge opened her mouth to say something, but what would have come out was either a very late apology or another insult, and Kolivan wished to hear neither.

“A warrior is someone who carries all the others characteristics and more. Like fighters, they seek victory, but never for their own gain. Like soldiers, they protect a cause with their dying breath, but only ever follow their own rules. Like a pillar, he supports the ones that are in need, but does not hesitate to become a wall between them and the enemy. Like a researcher, they wonder about the past and the present, but so they can be ready when the battle finally comes. Like a leader, a warrior tries to be successful, but he knows his and his team’s limitations.”

They stared at Lance, the boy failing to look indifferent. His tries were already half-hearted, his chest stuffed and back straight. He kept stealing glance at the galra, and his eyes were so much full of happiness that they almost lost the smidge of sadness. He was happy with Kolivan’s words. However, he was sad because… The leader of the Blade of Marmora wasn’t the one Lance wanted the recognition from. Shiro was able to see it and would’ve said something, but the galra was not finished.

“A warrior is someone who will fight to protect what he believes needs to be protected with everything they are. Without hesitation, without thinking twice, without regretting once. Get up and stand straight, Red Paladin of Voltron, and let them see the eyes of a true warrior, someone who carries war in their mind and peace in their heart.”

Lance twitched.

“Get up, and let them see you, warrior Lance.”

The mice jumped on the floor, letting Lance stand up without worrying about them. The boy slowly got up, seemingly calculating every move, every breath. He slowly straightened his back, making himself look taller—no, letting them witness the full height of the barrier that protected them. When he was finally up—had his back always looked so large?—, he turned his body in their direction with the same calculating cautiousness. He was still in his armor, they all were, but his looked like fitted a lot better, like it was made for him—like he was made to wear an armor. They could feel the mood changing, Lance’s presence enveloping them, denying them from taking their eyes away. Eyes closed, he let a shaky breath come out before opening them.

Bluest blue.

Burning their souls.

They could see it all. The determination, the perseverance, the sense of justice, the desire to protect, the courage to go forwards, the anger directed towards the threats, the cautiousness, the kindness, the intelligence, the never-ending resolve.

 _Look at me,_  his eyes said, _look at me._   _While I fight. While I protect. While I give everything I am for what I believe that needs to be protected._

_For what I am willing to die for._

_For what I am willing to live for._

**_Look at me._ **

“Look at him. Look at the warrior you neglected. He had such empty eyes when I came, but look how they burn now that someone gave him the chance to show himself.” Kolivan bowed his head. “If you ever feel like this is not enough for you, warrior, I would be more than honored to give you a place in the Blade of Marmora.”

“You don’ t want me.”

It was the first time they’ve heard Lance’s voice… In a few hours, at least. It sounded rough and cold, had it always been able to sound like that? And had his eyes always been that searing shade of blue? And had that scar right above his left eye always been there? And what about the one right under his lips; was it there ever since the beginning?

“I do.” Kolivan still kept his head down. “There’s nothing sadder than a warrior with empty eyes, and that is what this team is turning you into. The Blade would be more than willing to bring back the universe they should hold.”

“I…”

“If you still don’t wish to come with us, then at least let us train you.”

“Kolivan—.”

“Pardon me, Princess, but he is right.”

“Coran?!”

Coran stared at the team with the same tired resignation of a disappointed father. They were so worried with what their eyes showed them, they forgot about the one whose eyes rarely showed. Staring at Lance, he felt like looking at his King once more. The strongest warrior Coran had ever met before Lance. The boy was strong from growing in a harsh environment—one where he was shoved aside and constantly criticized—, it was time he learned how to grow in more fertile grounds—where he would be taught and praised like he deserved. As the parental figure that he took in Lance’s life, Coran understood that the team was no longer helping his son go forward. They were now the problem. One that sending Lance away could resolve.

“What we have here is not just a skilled fighter, princess, but a skilled warrior with much potential. Like your father.” At that, Allura gaped at the man. “Lance, my boy, it will be extremely beneficial for you to accept at least being trained by them. You can do like Keith and come back when we call.”

Lance stared at each of his teammates. Pidge looked extremely confused. Hunk had turned into stone. Shiro was furrowing his brows—strangely, his eyes held acceptance. Keith was seething, but he did a good job at holding himself back. Allura was piercing him with her stare, probably trying to see what in the boy reminded Coran of King Alfor.

Deep breath.

“When we leave?”

Coran smiled. As much as he wanted to keep Lance there, he knew it wouldn’t do any good. But the Blade—he hoped—would do what they never could.

“Today.”

Fill the empty eyes of a warrior.

“I will pack my things.”

Hopefully, Lance’s eyes would never again be empty.


End file.
